


in brilliance and beauty

by flaurelprint



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Also mention of hidden gods, F/F, Just gals being pals, Late Night Conversations, Massage, Pining, Sexual tension thick enough to cut with a butter knife, giving massages and flirting like good friends do, minor spoilers for Ophilia's chapter 3 and 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaurelprint/pseuds/flaurelprint
Summary: On the night before they finally reach their destination, H'aanit feels a restless anxiety. It doesn't help that her back is aching from days of stressful combat in the flatlands. On this sleepless night, she shares company with Primrose who offers to give her a back massage to help with the pain.





	in brilliance and beauty

**Author's Note:**

> ok this started as a headcanon, that Primrose gives really good massages...combined with another headcanon that H'aanit is exceedingly touchstarved...and this is the result of that.
> 
> Also I was blushing the entire time I wrote this so I hope it was worth it jfc

It was well past midnight and H’aanit was unable to sleep. As an early riser, she was accustomed to sleeping soon after dusk and wake at dawn. However, a particularly rough day of battles left her sore, especially after a large Bull of the Flatlands caught her by surprise. It struck her from the side, lifting her high into the air, and knocking the wind out of her chest. When she thudded to the dry ground, it felt excruciating. Even now, hours later, the pain flickered along her spine and ribs. Though Ophilia had quickly healed her in the midst of battle, and Alfyn had applied a soothing salve to her muscles soon after, she still felt exhausted. As she lay, she tossed and turned, struggling to find a position of comfort.

She sighed, giving up. Sitting up now, she brushed the hair from her forehead and glanced at the sky. In the Flatlands, the horizon stretched uninterrupted. The night view was stunning, with thousands of glittering stars across the sky. H’aanit, however, preferred the deep wilds of her home. The woodlands of S’warkii had trees so tall, they obscured much of the stars. It was beautiful in its own way, the deep green paths, mired in shadow and undergrowth. Here, on the outskirts of Wispermill, H’aanit felt exposed without the comforting canopy of green above.

The party was on the road to Wispermill, in pursuit of Ophilia’s sister, Lianna. The urgency of their goal has left H’aanit distracted and anxious, as she often finds herself lapsing into the consequences should they fail. What dark lord has Lianna sought in this secluded town? What lay before them, should the forbidden one awaken? She shuddered at the thought. In regard to the divine, H’aanit has followed Draefendi as is the custom of S’warkii hunters. The deity of the hunt trusted in the cycle of nature, so H’aanit carried that belief through each of her marks. As she released each arrow to end a life, that death would bring forth the nutrients needed to maintain fertile soil. Life and death, endlessly chasing one another in moments of collapse and renewal – that is the way of the woods, and the way of life in much of Orsterra. Yet, the forbidden one promises a different way, one that returns those long dead to life and barters in terms unknown. She’s not sure why this god has been sealed, but she grew up with divine power the way it was. Such a large shift in power terrifies her. She never imagined such great change would occur in her lifetime. She shivered, anxiety pooling in her stomach. H’aanit almost laughed. She hadn’t felt this anxious since she was a child.

She sighed, lifting herself from her bedroll in defeat. With such an active mind, she would not be sleeping anytime soon. Linde grumbled in annoyance at the loss of warmth. The snow leopard curled over her blanket, letting out a soft snore.

H’aanit pulled her cloak from her bag, wrapping it around her shoulders to ward off the night’s chill. The sky was a velvet black expanse above her, tinged with violet. Stars blinked above quietly in different patterns than she was used to. She had never traveled this far north in the Flatlands at this time of year; the constellations of Steorra’s Scale and Dreisang’s Gale were shifted east, while the Bow of Draefendi was centered in the sky. At least that small detail made the Flatlands seem more welcoming, as if Draefendi was watching over her to aid in the trials ahead.

“Having trouble sleeping?” A melodic voice asked from behind H’aanit. She suppressed the urge to jump, having been caught by surprise by her companion. The graceful dancer leaned beside her, glancing at her curiously. H’aanit turned to catch Primrose’s gaze, struggling to maintain a placid expression.

It didn’t help that H’aanit had been harboring a crush on the brunette for several weeks now.

“My back acheth from our battles before.”

“Those bulls were giving you trouble today, huh?” Primrose’s snicker made H’aanit’s heart beat just a bit faster. She averted her gaze, striding to the north of camp, away from where the other’s slept.

“What keeps thou awake at this hour?” H’aanit asked without looking back, knowing that Primrose followed just a pace behind her.

“I’m keeping watch. Someone’s got to protect us from creatures and monsters and the like.”

H’aanit’s mouth twitched into an affectionate smile. She halted at the northern end of camp, sliding her hands into her pockets with a casual ease.

“And for that I am gladden.” H’aanit couldn’t help but allow the admiration she held for the dancer leak into her voice. “I coulde not thinketh of a more reliable ally.”

To her surprise, Primrose averted her own gaze, hiding her face beneath her hand. She realized a few seconds too late just how her words could have been interpreted and blushed in embarrassment. Primrose appeared caught off guard by the sincerity of her words, and an unfamiliar look – perhaps vulnerability – flashed in her expression.

The dancer recovered quickly, however, replying jokingly, “Nonsense! Linde has me beat in strength at least.”

H’annit chuckled, hands still stuck in the pockets of her pants – safe from the risk of brushing Primrose’s hand or even worse, caressing her cheek –

She gazed upwards, taking in the full beauty of the star-speckled night. It was a new moon, but the sky was dotted with thousands of pinpricks of light. Her mind wandered, as they reminded her of the delicate freckles that dotted along the bridge of Primrose’s nose.

Nonsense. H’aanit shook her head, rubbing her forehead in annoyance. The night was clouding her mind with senseless thoughts. She flinched as she thought this, covering her mouth with her hand with a hiss. She realized with dread that Primrose had in fact seen her movement and was currently staring at her with concern.

Before she could feel the full weight of her embarrassment, however, Primrose asked with a small smile, “Your back?”

Thank Draefendi the dancer could not read her mind.

“Ah yes,” H’aanit sputtered. “It acheth terribly.” She rubbed her shoulder, wincing as pain shot through her muscle. It’s not like she was lying.

“Would you like a massage?” Primrose asked nonchalantly. Her face was composed, betraying no extreme emotion, indicating no overarching joke. It was as if she were discussing the weather or a new recipe.

H’aanit stared at her with a poor attempt at a composed face. It took several moments for the words to make impact. When she finally realized what Primrose had proposed, she could not hope to control the flush of red to her face, or the erratic dance of her heart as she imagined Primrose’s hands along her back –

“I didn’t mean to overstep.” Primrose continued, glancing away. “Back when I worked in taverns, it was normal for dancers to give each other massages. The work is rigorous, you see, and the best way to stretch a muscle is with another pair of hands –”

“I woulde liken that,” H’aanit blurted out, still exceedingly flustered. “If that is alright with thee.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t alright.” Primrose smiled. “Let me find some blankets for you to lay on.”

* * *

H’aanit wasn’t sure what possessed her to agree to this. Generally, she engaged with others from a distance. She was wary around other people, stiff and cold to strangers. In terms of intimacy, she rarely took lovers. The only partners she had been with on any significant level were few in number for good reason. Regardless, those experiences occurred some time ago. It has been years since she felt the gentle touch of a woman at her back.

Which is why, now that she was laying on her chest in the woods with a beautiful woman kneading the sore muscles of her back, she could barely speak. With each rhythmic movement from Primrose’s hands, H’aanit had to restrain herself from flinching away from the sensation. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the touch from another.

“Wow, your shoulders are so tense,” Primrose dug her thumbs deeply into the muscle, trying to work out the tightness. H’aanit hissed as she felt some intense mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Do you ever stretch when you exercise, or before battle?” She asked, moving her hands skillfully along her shoulders.

H’aanit carefully exhaled to level her tone before replying. “Not oftenen.”

“You know, that’s not good for you.” Primrose chastised her lightly, moving her hands towards H’aanit’s spine. “I was taught to stretch before and after performances to prevent injury. Maybe you should implement it into your routine…”

H’aanit listened to the lilting timbre of Primrose’s voice as she steadily massaged down her back. Her words faded, until H’aanit merely followed the rise and fall of her tone. Primrose’s steady motions were kneading out the tension in her back and as that pain faded, it was replaced by sheer pleasure.

Suddenly, Primrose traced her hand delicately along H’aanit’s spine. Electricity raced through her body and she leaned into the warmth of Primrose’s touch. The dancer’s hand halted on the back of her neck. H’aanit shivered in anticipation, waiting for Primrose to give her _something, anything_ –

Soft fingers slid from the nape of H’aanit’s neck to the curve of her cheek. The huntress angled her head backwards, eyes alight with desire, as she regarded Primrose. The beautiful dancer sat above her, but her face hung down so they were mere inches apart. This close, H’aanit could see the delicate freckles along her nose and cheeks, even trailing along her neck. Her eyes finally met with Primrose’s. She was surprised and delighted to see them alight with the same intensity, perhaps even the same desire.

They each hesitated, regarding one another in this new realm of closeness. H’aanit yearned to lean upward, to close the gap between their lips, between their bodies…

The spell was broken by an exclamation from behind the two.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?” came the awkward question. From a few yards away, Tressa stood, an unsure look upon her face.

H’aanit jumped, rolling into the blankets she was laying on, intent on hiding her chest.

Primrose leaned back on her hand, her face inscrutable.

“You have interrupted nothing!” H’aanit cried a bit more loudly than intended.

“Just a friend giving another friend a massage.” Primrose shrugged.

“Do friends give each other massages?” Tressa asked incredulously, walking closer to the pair.

“Depends on the type of friends you make.” Primrose promptly stood from the ground, dusting herself off. “Let me guess. You’re here to pick up watch.”

Tressa nodded. “Don’t mind me. If y’all need some alone time, we have an extra tent, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

H’aanit quickly donned her loose nightshirt, and scrambled to her feet after Primrose. She ignored Tressa’s words, instead focusing on falling in step beside the dancer.

“Primrose.” She whispered hurriedly, hoping they were out of earshot of Tressa. “May I asken thee something?”

Primrose glanced at her warily before nodding.

“With Tressa, you said you…doen such things for friends, depending on the type deemed by thee.” H’aanit halted, her heart stammering as she steeled herself for her next words. “What type of friend dost thou thinken of me as?”

Primrose halted as well, pausing for a moment with her back to the huntress.

After H’aanit waited her answer in unbearable silence, Primrose turned. In her eyes, the same look stirred as before, that glint of uncertainty and vulnerability in her soft expression.

“I still haven’t quite decided yet.” Primrose smiled, turning away once more. “Definitely the kind I like.”

H’aanit didn’t think she could blush any deeper, and yet that answer left her a flustered mess.

She wasn’t able to sleep that night, though it was no longer the pain in her back that kept her up.

**Author's Note:**

> I! Love! H'aanirose pining! I love them both sm and I hope this was enjoyable to read (it was mostly self-indulgent, forgive me). I just...want my girls to be happy, I love them so much


End file.
